


and i started to walk, pretty soon i will run (and i'll come running back to you)

by rosietyler



Series: the one adventure he could never have [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosietyler/pseuds/rosietyler
Summary: "You dare do anything martyr-like or self-sacrificial and I'll kill you myself. And then go get my Mum to kill you again. Received loud and clear?"He nods in her hands, a little terrified of her (And a little turned on. He'll unpack that later)."No self-sacrificial acts. Got it."Rose leans forwards, his head still in her hands, and kisses him soundly; although it's a chaste, and a little wet and salty, it's perfect; reassuring him that she's here, she wants him, and they have a shot of a whole life together.The one adventure he could never have.(Or, the Doctor's second night in Pete's World).
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: the one adventure he could never have [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910116
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	and i started to walk, pretty soon i will run (and i'll come running back to you)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i'm back with the sequel to sweet dreams or a beautiful nightmare. this details the second day of tentoo in pete's world. also it's probably the longest thing i've ever written, cos DAMN this grew arms and legs and before i knew it, it was ten thousand words. whoops. it's now basically my iliad. i've now arranged everything into a series, so please keep an eye out for more. enjoy! ❤️
> 
> p.s. song title from the amazing 'song for ten' by murray gold.

** and i started to walk, pretty soon i will run (and i'll come running back to you) **

She wakes up alone.

She doesn't know if she's relieved or upset. It might have been to much for her, to wake up in his arms, to have to face him so early with no barriers. On the TARDIS, barriers and boundaries were her constant. Now, she doesn't know the playing field. She feels-

She doesn't really know how she feels. Various emotions are battling out in her body for dominance, and so far there isn't a clear winner.

She's so busy trying to catalogue what she's feeling (and what she isn't) that it takes her a second to remember she's not in her own bed, but the spare room's.

She rolls of the bed, stretching skywards. Her right shoulder is sore and stiff; was it only 12, 18 hours since she walked the streets of (now, parallel) London with a heavy gun on her shoulder? It feels like a lifetime ago; it feels like half an hour ago. She rotates it a couple of times, grimacing as it catches the stiffness.

His side of the bed is cold.

She gets up, puts a sweatshirt on over her pyjamas, an early morning chill evident; she wonders if that is her, or the weather. She pads across the room to the door.

He's on her couch.

She doesn't go directly to him; she instead crosses to the kitchen area, and flips the kettle on before wandering back over, constantly watching him. He's wearing his blue suit again, his red trainers crossed at the ankles on her coffee table. He's found her tablet - god only knows where - and is scrolling through information faster than her eyes can focus.

"How do you even read that?" she asks, and his head snaps up so fast she's sure it must have hurt. She rubs sleep from her eye as she nods her head towards the still super-fast information stream. He stops scrolling.

"I was trying to find out information about this Earth. Before I go blundering about spouting off _Harry Potter_ quotes only to find out JK is still a teacher in this universe."

She shakes her head in amusement; the kettle boils, and she crosses back to the kitchen area and grabs two mugs. "Nah, don't worry. _Harry Potter_ is still in this universe, don't think there's much change with it. Never thought I'd say this though - not a huge fan of JK. Met her at a Vitex Gala not long after I arrived here. She has some pretty ... controversial views." She throws some teabags in and tops it with the boiling water.

She remembers that Gala as it was yesterday. At the time, her desire for the Doctor to just _be there_ had burned red-hot, and she spent had spent the first half of the night picturing his face when he'd spotted his book hero, J.K. Rowling was in attendance; and the second part of the night imagining his whinging and moaning (whilst stuffing his face with the tiny nibbles, that was always part of the fantasy) that you should never really meet your heroes, because they are only ever a disappointment. Her Mum had shuffled her from person to person, glancing at her sympathetically now and again - knowing her daughter was lost to memories and fantasy.

He sighs deeply from the couch, shaking his head. "You should never meet your heroes," he echoes her thoughts so closely that she starts a little. "But I have to admit - that one stings."

"Yeah," she says, nodding as she waits for the tea to brew. "I remember wondering what you would have said if you'd been there."

He cocks his head to the side, pondering. She puts milk in hers, milk and quite a few sugars in his, and carries them over to the sofas. She plonks herself down on the other side of the 'L' shaped sofa, a safe distance between them despite the closeness they had shared in the night.

"I finally realised whatever it would have been, it would have been rude."

The Doctor's indignant "Oi!" is harsh and loud; he claps his hand over his mouth in surprise. Rose's eyebrows are somewhere near her hairline.

"Sorry," he says, lowering his hand. For once, he does actually sound apologetic. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she whispers, her hands curling around her mug; she's trying not to show how rattled she is by his change in response. She was expecting a cheeky comment, or a roll of the eyes.

"I think it'll take a while to get used to the changes," he says, his voice small and unsure. She's never seen him like this; it's more than a little unnerving. Even in the strangest, most uncertain of times, he was her rock, her anchor, the one sure thing in the choppy sea.

If he's unsure, what hope does she have?

"Can I ask," she starts, and he automatically starts nodding. She decides to play a slightly obtuse angle to see how honest he'll be with her. "You said on the beach you had one heart and a human lifespan, but has anything else changed?"

He nods again. "Yeah," he says. "During the metacrisis, I got some of Donna's DNA."

"So you'll have personality traits the same as hers?" Rose asks. "Because it's not physical DNA, you look the same - you're still not ginger."

" _Still!_ That would have been the perfect opportunity too," he says wistfully, and Rose smiles a little despite herself. "But yes, personality, mainly. Alongside the human part of her DNA. Kind of like twins, if you pardon the clumsy analogy."

Rose takes a deep breath at his words. She knows this isn't going to be the easiest of conversations, but much like ripping off a plaster, she knows it has to be done. For both of their sakes. She tucks her legs up underneath her, balancing her mug precariously on her knee.

"So how human are you, exactly?"

He freezes.

"Ah," he says eventually, looking at his mug. "I would need to do a full biopsy to make sure, but I have a rough idea. I know that I age, so I have a human lifespan. I sleep, I sweat - " he pulls a disgusted face - "and I get hungry, so I can't regulate my bodily functions as well as I used to."

Rose nods, more to show him that she's keeping up than anything else. "What about the other stuff you used to do? Feeling the turn of the Earth, knowing exactly when we landed? Remember when we were at the Olympics, you could feel the energy stuff? What about all that?"

"Time Senses. Yep, I've still got them all," he taps the side of his head. "All the Time Lord stuff is still there; my Time Lord DNA is enough to keep it all contained. I don't know how they'll work, if they'll work at the same capacity as they used to. I'll have to do a little investigation into it. But really, I think the only human parts I gained were the aging part, and the gross bodily functions part."

Rose tactfully ignores the 'gross' part of that sentence. "What about regeneration? On the beach -

"I said I have one life," he cuts her off, and looks into her eyes. "I have only one life. No regeneration. Not this time."

"Why not?

"This body is partly human. You need a full Time Lord body, 100% Time Lord DNA to be able to regenerate. I mean, I know technically I am a regeneration -"

"Are you?" Rose's gaze is sharp as she interrupts this time.

"Kind of," he says, rubbing his eye. "This has never happened before, it's the closest thing I can describe it as. A side-ways regeneration."

"Why you didn't change physically?"

"Because of the hand," he says, waving his right hand. "It already had all of my DNA coded into it, from before it was cut off by the Sycorax and then again after the Dalek shot me and I siphoned off the excess energy. All it needed was a shot of Donna to ... wake it up?" He grimaces, rubbing said hand down his face. "God, I'm not explaining this right, am I?"

Rose shrugs.

"Okay. So basically: same man, like a regeneration but you've ended up a bit human instead of changing your face entirely?"

"Kind of."

"You're confusing me," Rose shakes her head, taking a sip of her tea. She's got a headache clustering between her eyebrows and she thinks that if they discuss any more, they'll end up going round in circles.

"Try living it," he retorts, mirroring her movements. "I don't know what I am. New man."

"New new new Doctor?" She grins a little at him, and he grins back at her.

She knows it'll do for now.

"Exactly," he says, sipping his tea.

There is silence for a few moments before Rose speaks again.

(She has a feeling this might be even more painful).

"Doctor?" she asks, and his head shoots up from where he was staring intently at his knee. She takes a breath. "You said earlier you had all of your Time Senses, your Time Lord knowledge, all 900 years of memories, yeah?"

"Yes," he agrees, nodding. "I remember everything, Rose."

She shakes her head. "Not that, I know that," she says, the words coming before she can think; she'll unpack that unconscious admission from herself later. "But ... you said you have all that, you have enough Time Lord DNA inside you to contain it."

She can almost see every muscle in his body tensing individually.

"But Donna. She is human and she stayed that way, didn't she? She only gained the mental part of you. She didn't gain any of your biology like you did from her. She said so, on the Crucible. She said she got your mind."

He nods.

"What happened? If you only survived because of your Time Lord DNA -" Rose swallows, the words sticking uncomfortably in her throat. She forces them out, feeling nauseous. "Is Donna - "

"She's not dead," he says, voice barely a whisper. He isn't looking at her anymore, he's back to staring at his knee. "You're right. She wouldn't have been able to contain all that Time Lord knowledge inside a human brain. It would have killed her if she'd kept it."

"He removed it from her? Is that even possible?" Rose puts down her cup of tea and scoots a little closer.

He nods once, the movement sharp. It looks painful. It takes a moment for him to speak. "I don't know for sure. But we were the same person, once - same thought processes," he taps the side of his head roughly, with an aggression Rose isn't used to. "He will have wiped her memories of me. Him. Both of us." His voice breaks on the last word, and he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Rose doesn't even think before she crawls across the void between them and wraps her arms around his shoulders, bring his head down against her shoulder. His body is rigid, excruciatingly tense.

He doesn't react to Rose's embrace at first. After a second of two Rose can hear him take a breath, shuddering and desperate before his body crumples, and he dissolves into heavy sobs on her shoulder. He sounds broken.

She tries to ignore her own heavy tears pouring down her face. She presses her face against his hair, pressing small kisses into it.

She doesn't know who she's trying to reassure more.

"All of it?" She says eventually. Her voice is quiet, small, disbelieving. "Everything she did? All her achievements? Gone?"

She feels him nod against her shoulder.

They don't move for a long time.

* * *

It is a while before they peel themselves away from one another.

The Doctor's eyes are red and look terribly swollen; Rose's are not much better. He sits up a little, long after his sobs have abated, but keeps his head on her shoulder.

"Donna didn't deserve that," Rose says into his hair. Her arms are still around his shoulders.

"No," the Doctor agrees. His voice is hoarse. "No, she didn't. But it was either that or her mind burned."

"Two terrible choices," Rose says, and he nods in agreement. Rose sighs. "That means he's alone again."

She feels her eyes filling up again.

"He'll be alright," the Doctor says, kissing her shoulder. All pretence of chasteness had dissipated with their breakdowns.

"That's the one thing I didn't want," Rose murmurs, more tears slipping down her face. "When he turned around, when he - he _abandoned_ us here, I thought - well, at least he has Donna, his equal, with him forever. But now he's all alone." Her voice breaks before she can finish the sentence.

The Doctor sits fully up now, forcing Rose to drop her arms from his shoulders. He mirrors her position; he turns his body towards her, one leg tucked under his body. He cradles her head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe her tears away.

"His song is ending."

Rose sniffs, looking up at him. "What?"

"Everywhere I went, the same phrase kept coming up. 'Your song is ending'. The Ood told me - who by the way, were slaves, you were right, Donna helped liberate them - " this sends a wave of fresh tears down Rose's face, "- and they told me, my song - his song, is ending. His time is done."

"He's going to regenerate," Rose breathes, putting the pieces together.

The Doctor nods. "A whole new man."

Rose sobs, holding onto his heads that are still brushing her tears away. "Will he be alone? When it - when it happens, will he be alone?"

The Doctor shakes his head. "You know I can't answer that, Rose. I hope he won't be. But we'll never know for sure."

Rose's tears show no signs of stopping. "I'm so ..." she takes a shaky breath, bites her lip as she tries to put her feelings into words. "Angry. Upset. Pissed off."

"All of the above and more," he agrees.

"We could have been there with him, on the TARDIS," she cries. "He wouldn't have to be alone. He _chose_ to be alone rather than have us there with him. Why would he choose to be alone when we're right here? He didn't even give us a choice!"

The Doctor begins to feel himself cry; he can't not, when his heart is breaking right in front of him.

"He would never have kept me around," he murmurs to her, still wiping tears from her face, headless of his own. "And he wanted to give you the one adventure he could never have."

"The slow path," she murmurs. He nods. He closes his eyes as more tears come, and he feels her warm hands wipe them away.

It's a minute or so before either of them speak again.

"What a fucking martyr," Rose says out of the blue, and he cracks a watery grin as he opens his eyes at her uncharacteristic language. He sees her trying to smile. "So bloody typical of him."

"Is a bit, isn't it?" He agrees readily, immeasurably grateful she's tried to inject some humour into this painful talk. He moves his hands to play with the ends of her hair. "I should really make sure that habit doesn't pass over, seeing as I have no more regenerations."

"I should bloody hope so." Rose's voice holds no argument. She holds his face in her hands with a surprising amount of force, her eyes boring into his with a forcefulness he's not used to from her.

(They've all changed).

"You dare do anything martyr-like or self-sacrificial and I'll kill you myself. And then go get my Mum to kill you again. Received loud and clear?"

He nods in her hands, a little terrified of her (And a little turned on. He'll unpack that later).

"No self-sacrificial acts. Got it."

Rose leans forwards, his head still in her hands, and kisses him soundly; although it's a chaste, and a little wet and salty, it's perfect; reassuring him that she's here, she wants _him,_ and they have a shot of a whole life together.

The one adventure he could never have.

Rose pulls back, wiping her own tears from her face; her eyes are red and brutally swollen. He leans forward on impulse and kisses her eyelids gently. He feels her smile a little.

It's only then he realises what's wrong with him.

"Blimey," he says, putting one hand to his head a little more theatrically than strictly necessary. "I think I've got a sore head."

Rose giggles a little, and he feels a sharp stab of pride that he's making her giggle in amongst all this _shit_. "That's the human in you," she teases, and although it's not quite as light-hearted as their teasing usually is, he appreciates the effort she's making for his sake. "Crying always gives me a bad headache anyway. And you're not able to just will a sore head away now!"

"Tragic," he mutters, and she giggles again. She wipes the tears away from her face and for the first time since sitting down, no new ones are replacing them.

(She wasn't naive enough to think that this would be the last time she would cry. She'd learnt that the hard way last time; grief is a journey you'll be on forever).

"C'mon," she stands up, wobbling a little; his arms shoot out to steady her without him realising it. "I've got painkillers in a kitchen drawer somewhere."

He picks up their mugs, still half full of now stone cold tea, and follows her to the kitchen area. He dumps them out into the sink and refills the kettle as Rose rummages around in a drawer. He's putting the kettle on to boil again when she emerges with a packet of ibuprofen.

"I figured another cup of tea would be in order," he says, and Rose nods as she pops two tablets out of the packet and hands them to him. She swallows two herself as she puts teabags into the previously used mugs.

"Is this what human life is like?" the Doctor asks, as he leaves Rose to handle the tea and instead collapses into one of her kitchen island stools. He leans his elbows on the island and presses the heel of his hand to his eyes. "I think my eyes are gonna fall out of my head."

"Give the painkillers some time to kick in, and you'll be okay," Rose says, stirring the sugar into his tea. She puts the mug down in front of him and ruffles his hair affectionately. "Drama queen."

"Oi," he retorts, but it is quieter, softer than before. Rose sits next to him at the kitchen island.

"The drama queen is all you, don't worry," she says, and he rolls his eyes. They sit in silence for a moment or two, with the only sounds the gentle sips of tea.

Rose sighs heavily after a while.

"Penny?" the Doctor asks softly, knocking his mug against hers.

Rose shakes her head. "I was just thinking; I never expected to be back here. This wasn't even a contingency plan. I was either gonna die crossing the universe or stay on the TARDIS." They haven't spoken about the TARDIS yet; he can feel himself tensing, but she doesn't dig deeper. Maybe she can tell - his perceptive, wonderful Rose, that he isn't ready to talk about that loss just yet. "So I have nothing in no food or anything; we'll need to go shopping."

The Doctor nearly spits out his tea. "We'll?!"

"Well you need to eat too, right? And I told you, I'm burning that suit - and you'll need other things to wear. Washing machines only go so fast y'know."

"I didn't think you were serious," he says, draining his mug. He pats his arm softly.

He wonders if, maybe, giving up the pinstripes wouldn't be so bad.

"Oh god, yeah. It's really a sight," Rose says, an amused smile on her face despite the puffiness that lingers in her eyes. She drains her mug in one go, putting in down on the counter. "C'mon. I'll let you have first shower."

He follows her. Of course he does - he'd follow her anywhere.

* * *

A while later sees the Doctor in Rose's car (a sleek black Audi that has Pete Tyler written all over it, but he keeps that thought to himself) on the way to a large shopping centre.

"You can drive?" he asks her as she revs the engine, driving out of the private garage that is in the basement of her flat block.

She nods. "Learnt soon after I arrived. When I started working for Torchwood. We had to drive out to any alien encounters, and the aliens weren't kind enough to keep their nefarious plans to London."

"How rude of them," he replies with a chuckle. He knows that Torchwood was going to come up sooner or later, and he wants to get everything out in the open.

(After so long keeping secrets, he was loathe to keep any more).

"I'll need a job, won't I?"

Rose bites her lip, and doesn't answer right away. He nudges her, and she nods at his prompting. "Yes. Even if it's only to keep you out of trouble."

"Hey!" he says, a hand to his chest. She laughs. "What's your Torchwood like?"

Rose frowns. "Nothing like the other one, although our base is still Torchwood Tower. Dad's in charge. He runs it very efficiently, if I can say so. We're outside the Government, but we liaise with them frequently. We run in full public view just like any other company, so that's a bit odd. My official title is Field Agent. I go to any alien call-outs with my team and try to get them to ... peacefully leave us alone."

"How often does that actually work?"

Rose tilts her head side to side. "Err - fifty-fifty?"

Well, at least she was being honest. "Do you think I'd be a good fit there?"

She flinches. "Of course," she says easily, but she's frowning. "You want to work for Torchwood? I thought you'd be dead against it."

The Doctor grimaces in thought. "I know. But I have to do something, don't I? Need money, for starters. And you're right, I need something to do if I'm going to live a normal human life for the next sixty or so years."

Rose laughs. "Yeah, because saving the planet from aliens on a near-daily basis is a 'normal human life'."

He grins back at her. "Okay, about as normal as I would expect," he amends. "Anyway, although I won't know all the species, I know a good chunk of them, right? So I'd be of some use."

Rose stops at traffic lights; she reaches over and covers his hand with hers. "Working for Torchwood or not, you'll always be useful, Doctor. Don't ever think otherwise," she says, her voice full of passion in the way he's only ever seen in her. He curls his hand around hers and squeezes tightly, words getting stuck in his throat. "Anyway," she continues, as though he isn't try to choke out declarations of love without sobbing, "Dad would love to have you. I imagine he's itching to get you in there. Mum's probably the only reason he hasn't called yet."

The Doctor's lump in his throat grows a little at her words. "I should probably discuss it with him before making any decisions, eh?" he manages to choke out after a few good swallows.

If she notices, Rose doesn't comment. "Yeah. He'll probably come to you. He's a lot of things, that man, but he's not exactly patient. Makes for a good turnaround at work though when we need something done."

He nods at her words; they are quiet as she negotiates London traffic. From his view, everything almost looks the same.

"So, what's different about this universe?"

Rose cocks her head to the side, thinking. "Not as much as you think. Obviously, still a President - Harriet Jones is still here, by the way, elected last year for a second term - and there is no Royal family."

"Yeah, I meant to ask!" he exclaims, a little loudly; Rose starts. "If no Royals, and no us, did you ever find out how Torchwood was created?"

Rose grins. "It's an excellent story," she says as she swings the car into a multi-storey car park; the Doctor hadn't realised they had arrived. "So there was a Queen Victoria, and she did indeed visit Torchwood House in 1879. Only, the werewolf killed her."

"Oh, no," he responds, his mouth twisting.

"Yep. So Queen Victoria is killed by a werewolf, and everyone that was staying in Torchwood House that night knew. Her son, terrified, took the throne, but was quickly overthrown in a coup by the People's Republic; after Queen Victoria was murdered - well, the official party lie was that she had been assassinated, not too far off the truth as she had had many attempts on her life. Anyway, after the 'assassination' the public lost all hope in a royal family. So the President was installed in place of the Monarchy. Sir Robert McLeish, remember him? He was there, and he was injured - not killed - protecting Victoria. So it was Sir Robert and his wife Isobel, alongside Queen Victoria's children, who created Torchwood to protect Britain from all supernatural and extra-terrestrial visitors."

They have parked now, Rose has stopped the car; she takes the keys out of the ignition and gets out.

"That's mental," he says he gets out with her. "For a long time after the Battle, I wondered if we had created that whole scenario for being there in Scotland. It's strange to think that even though we weren't there, Torchwood still ends up existing."

"I know," Rose agrees, leading him into the shopping centre; she takes his hand easily, like it's second nature, and he feels a warmth spreading through him that she did that small action so familiarly. "I thought about that too, quite a lot. Especially when I was first stuck here."

She leads him into a busy shopping centre, packed full with shoppers going about their daily business; the air was thick with the sounds of footfalls, ringing mobile phones, the cries of children. "It's funny," he says as he looks around, taking it all in; Rose strides on and ends up almost dragging him by the hand. "That there are millions of parallel universes just like this one, and humans that live on those planets, going about their individual lives, never knowing there is another them out there - multiple thems - living their lives."

Rose shakes her head, but it's amusement that paints her face. "It is. But if you think about that too much your headache will come back."

The Doctor laughs at this; he notices Rose has stopped in the middle of the shopping centre. "What's the hold up?"

Rose rolls her eyes. "Well, you need clothes," she explains in a voice you'd use for children; it's his turn to roll his eyes at her tone jokingly. "Like, everything. So we'll need to find a men's shop - which is not something I'm very used to, if I'm being honest."

They look around, before the Doctor spots a large department store at the end of the shopping centre. "What about in there?"

Rose hums. "Looks as good as place to start as any," she agrees, and takes his hand to lead him there; the warmth in his hand, arm, body, heart returns with her touch. "I mean, we don't have to get absolutely everything today, but at least enough to go on for a couple of weeks."

The Doctor makes a face; she laughs. "Do you think you'll keep the pinstripes?" she asks, gesturing to his blue pinstripes with her free hand.

He quirks his lips. "What do you think?"

Her answer comes smoothly. "You are your own man. Your own choice."

(There's a lot more to that statement than just clothes).

"I think I might get something different. Try it out," he replies, gauging her reaction. "New new new me, after all."

Rose grins as they reach the department store. "Right," she says, rolling her shoulders as if preparing for battle. "This is gonna be interesting. Let's go!"

* * *

They leave with what seems like a thousand bags and half the store.

About three sales assistances ended up helping them with their shopping; they leave with everything from boxers to t-shirts to dress shirts to a range of converse trainers in various colours.

The Doctor had vehemently refused to try anything on, giving his size and nothing more. Rose had stalked away from him for a good five minutes after that, but came back with a handful of plain coloured t-shirts and a grey sweatshirt, which got added to the cart.

Rose paid; the Doctor insisted he was to pay to her back with his first pay check, although he had a sneaky feeling Rose would refuse. He'll find a way to pay her back.

They eventually fit everything into the Audi (it fills the boot and the back seats entirely) and head home; the thought of heading home jogs something in the Doctor's mind as Rose reverses out of the parking space.

"You don't mind me staying with you, do you?" he asks, and Rose swivels around as best she can in the driving seat to stare at him.

"What do you mean?" Her voice is sharp. He winces; he doesn't want this to come out the wrong way.

"I mean, I was just dumped on you," he says, his own voice taking on a harder edge as he tries not to put his foot in it and end up sounding rude. "I know that wasn't what you necessarily expected. I'm happy to try and get my own place if you'd rather -"

"Shut up."

"Pardon?"

"Just stop talking," Rose says; she's not annoyed, but her voice is still sharp. "Of course you're going to stay with me. Where else would you go?"

"I don't know," he replies honestly. Because really, where would he go? His whole existence is because of the woman sitting next to him. He wouldn't want to go anywhere else.

"Would you want to go anywhere else?"

The Doctor huffs. Her voice is still snappy. Despite choosing his words, it seems that it's still coming across wrong. "No, but - "

"Then why bring it up?"

"I was giving you a choice, actually."

That shut Rose up quickly. He glanced out of the corner of his eye; she was opening and closing her mouth, but no words were coming out.

The resulting silence is thick, heavy in the car between them as they retrace their earlier route back to Rose's flat.

(Their flat).

Suddenly a shrill ringing coming from the centre console breaks the silence. There is a large screen in the middle of the console, and a picture of Jackie pops up alongside 'Mum'. Rose presses a button on the screen and Jackie's voice fills the car at an uncomfortably loud volume.

"Alright, love?" Jackie asks, the volume piercing his ears; he sees Rose wince and press a button on her steering wheel, and Jackie's voice goes down to a tolerable volume.

"Yeah, Mum. I'm fine. How are you?"

"Alright. Glad to be back and get some sleep - that day latest forever," Jackie says, and there is the sound of hissing stoves and boiling water in the background. "Did you manage to sleep?"

Rose sighs. "Yeah. I got some sleep."

"Good," Jackie's voice is firm in the way only a mother's voice could be. "You need to catch up on some sleep, Rose, you look like a ghost sometimes you're so pale. You look ill."

The Doctor stiffens a little; he's yet to ask about how Rose managed to get back through to the other universe, the toll it took on her body. He's never wished for the TARDIS infirmary more so he could do a full scan and put his mind at ease.

Rose is rolling her eyes; clearly this in an argument they've had before. "Yes, I know Mum."

"Anyway," Jackie says, like Rose hasn't spoken. "I was wondering if you wanted to come round for dinner tonight."

Rose glances at the Doctor. "Oh, I don't know, Mum - "

"Tony misses you," Jackie says, and the Doctor can see Rose deflate; that's clearly the soft spot, the killer blow, and he's absolutely sure Jackie knows that. She clearly isn't above taking advantage. "And get himself to come too."

He huffs out a laugh - some things never change. Rose sighs.

"We'll be there," Rose says, but she doesn't sound overjoyed by this development. Jackie, for her part, doesn't seem to notice.

"Excellent. Be here at half six, love, alright! Tony, no, don't eat the cupcake paper - sorry, darlin', gotta go, see you later, love you!"

The silence resumes.

"Sorry," they say at the same time, and by both let out a nervous giggle. The Doctor gestures for Rose to go first.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice coming out fast and a bit choked; he checks to make sure she's not crying, and she's not, but she sounds close. "I mean, I did all that to find you, and for a second I thought you didn't want to stay with me."

"No, I'm sorry," he replies, reaching out at taking her hand where it's sitting on the gearstick. "I just wanted to make sure it was what _you_ wanted."

"I want you," she says, her voice raw honesty; his single heart fills even more with adoration for this human girl.

"Lucky me," He jokes, and she smiles. He grins too. "I want to be wherever you are."

"Lucky me," she jokes back, leaning over slightly to tap her shoulder against his. She sighs. "It's ten past five, we better just go home and freshen up before we go to hers."

His heart grows three sizes when she calls it home.

* * *

"Are you sure you're ok to do this?"

Rose turns to him, from her seat driving again. He fidgets in the passenger seat, his new clothes feeling scratchy and, well, _new._ He tugs at the collar of his blue shirt, rolls his shoulders. It's slightly starchy. He's wearing a sky blue shirt, on it's own (seeing as it's July, and he's got a brand-new roasting basal temperature, he can no longer have four layers on in any weather and feel comfortable) with navy chino trousers and cream converse trainers.

He's never really had properly new clothes in many years. Everything had been provided for by the TARDIS, and had appeared in his wardrobe fitting perfectly and already feeling well-worn despite looking new.

"Yeah," he says, nodding as the landscape of London whizzes past him. "It's just Jackie." Even as he says it he swallows a little, not knowing what is facing him. He's confident she'll either try to snog him (for bringing Rose back) or slap him (for risking all their lives) but he's not entirely sure which one at this point. Perhaps both.

"Never seen you so nonchalant about my Mum before," Rose says, aware that he is anything but nonchalant. "I _honestly_ don't mind. It's been a hell of a day - we can cancel. Go another time. She'll give me a bit of a hard time but she'll understand."

He shakes his head; he wants to get it over and done with. "It's fine," he says, smiling a little to try and convince her. Although she nods, he's not sure she's convinced.

He's not so sure she was the one he was trying to convince.

Pete and Jackie live in a different house and than one he and Rose visited, on that fateful night with the Cybermen. This one has a winding path that you come across rather abruptly, as he learned from Rose's sharp turn left.

"Sorry," she says, as they trundle up the gravel path slowly. "Dad sold the house after the Cyberman incident," she explains quietly, almost like she can read his mind. "He couldn't face it, he said. Too many memories, both good and bad. It was half destroyed by the Cyberman anyway." They had come to a stained cherry oak gate, which was opened immediately as they pulled up. "He bought the flat I stay in now, that's where he was living when Mum and I arrived here. After that it didn't take long for them to find this place and move in. He let me stay in the flat."

They had reached the mansion. And mansion it was. The building was three stories, and massive. Ivy crawled all over on the front of the house; it contrasted nicely with the red brick. Protruding from one side of the house appeared to be three garages, with quite a few cars parked out front.

"Go on yourself, Jackie Tyler," he mutters as he steps out of Rose's car, just as the front doors are flung open and a screech the volume (and pitch) the Doctor had never heard the likes of before.

"ROSIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

A small boy is flinging himself down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste to get to his sister; he runs flat out across the gravel and throws himself at Rose's kneecaps with such force she stumbles back and steadies herself against the side of the car. He stays put, watching from the other side of the car. He can't help but feel intruding.

But this is why the other Doctor did what he did. For Rose. So she could have this.

"Tones!" she says, recovering from the onslaught and swinging him up; he cackles, loud and free, and when Rose brings him in for a hug he wraps his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. That's when he clearly spies the Doctor, for even he can see Tony's tiny arms tightening around Rose's neck and his eyes going wide.

"Is that him?" Tony asks her in a loud whisper, and Rose nods. The Doctor comes around from the other side of the car to stand next to Rose, Tony's eyes following him the whole time.

"Tony, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is my pest of a baby brother."

"I'm not a baby!" Tony says loudly in Rose's ear, and this is clearly part of their banter; she shakes her head in amusement at his loud outburst. He fixes the Doctor with wide, excited eyes. "Have you got your spaceship? Can I go in? Mummy says I can!"

"I don't at the minute," he says, and he can't help the note of melancholy that seeps into his voice at the admission. He can feel Rose's gaze on him. "And even if I did, I can't imagine your Mum would let you."

"She says so," Tony says definitely as though he has all the authority in the world, and the Doctor can't help but grin at the resemblance between stubborn older sister and stubborn little brother. "So's I can help fight the aliens. Like the ... Sly-theen!"

Rose laughs alongside the Doctor at Tony's cute mispronunciation as they walk into the house. She bounces Tony in her arms where he is still clinging to her like a koala. "Baby Tyler was often only able to fall asleep to the tall tales of near death experiences."

"Am NOT a baby!" Tony cries.

"Well, stop moaning like one," Jackie's voice floats in from the side, and she tries to dislodge Tony from Rose; he fusses and whines, tightening his hold around his older sister's neck. "Bloody hell, that boy."

"Stubborn like his sister I see," the Doctor grins; Jackie smiles back.

"Too right. I don't know where they get it from," she quips back, and Rose and the Doctor share a glance over Tony's mousey-brown hair. "C'mon you two, dinner's ready. And before you start," she points at the Doctor - who points at himself in response, his face a picture of innocence - "no, I didn't cook. Rose told me about that nut loaf joke you used to make. So bloody rude."

"That was meant to be between you and me," he hisses to Rose as he follows her; she only giggles in response, which earns a giggle from Tony too.

The Doctor follows Rose into the kitchen/dining room area, which seems to be one large area that spans about four Powell Estate flats, end-to-end; at one side is some comfy couches and a wide television, the other a large white kitchen. In the middle is a large dining table, that looks like it could sit twelve people; behind it all is floor-to-ceiling windows that show a large back garden. Well, back garden is an understatement - more a small moor. Out of the corner of his eye the Doctor can see Tony wiggling down from Rose's arms, and tugging her over to a collection of toys over by the sofas.

"Bit of an upgrade from the old Estate, isn't it?"

He starts at her voice. He finds himself standing beside the window; he hadn't realised he was crossing over to look out onto the Tyler's expansive garden. Jackie had come up behind him, almost silently.

( _'When on Earth did she learn to be silent?'_ briefly crossed his mind.)

(They've all changed.)

"It is," he agrees with her quietly, looking up at the sky. "It is indeed."

"Can't quite get used to it," she admits quietly, leaning forward a little as if imparting a big secret - he wonders if she actually is. "Still wake up sometimes panicking that I've forgotten to pay the rent, or wondering if I'll have any customers today. But then I remember - I've got this life now. A better life. Thanks to you."

The Doctor blinks at her.

"Never got a chance to thank you, did I? So this is me, saying thank you. And 'm sorry for slapping you so much. But you did deserve it when I did."

The Doctor laughs.

"Never change, Jackie," he says, wrapping her up in a hug. She lets out an 'oof' of surprise before hugging him back.

They separate, and grin at each other. "Time for dinner," she says, in a very motherly tone. "Don't mind Tony. He's clingy with Rose. She spent a lot of time on the cannon, y'see, and didn't really see much of him the last few months. He's missed her."

The Doctor's mouth falls open, and he looks devastated on Tony's behalf. "I'm sorry," he says, looking at his feet. Jackie grips his arm firmly.

"Don't," she says, her eyes boring into him not unlike Rose's did earlier on the sofa. "Don't you dare apologise. You have nothing to apologise for."

"But - "

"But nothin'," she says, her tone final. "I was there too, on that Dalek spaceship. I saw what happened. The other Doctor was perfectly happy to stand there and talk for hours until the main Dalek man gave in! You were the only one with an actual plan to destroy those monsters and save everyone. That more than makes up for the last three years in my book."

He laughs; she smiles, and walks off towards Tony from where the small boy is showing Rose a large fire truck toy, with added sound effects; he fusses as Jackie tells him to go wash his hands for dinner but does go, grumbling all the while.

"Big house, eh?" the Doctor says to Rose as she wanders back over to him. She smiles and nods.

"Mum and Dad like to socialise," she explains as she waves a hand at the expansive room. "So they wanted a house with a lot of space for it. They have the higher ups from both Vitex and Torchwood over for dinner a lot. With Torchwood especially, Dad prefers to have a rather informal atmosphere, so they're all pretty friendly."

The man himself then walks into the room, looking like he's just home from work; still in suit and tie. He's carrying Tony in his arms, who is wilding flailing his arms around as he tells his father a story.

"Rose," he greets fondly, putting Tony down at one of the dining chairs. He wraps Rose up into a big hug. "So glad you're okay."

He releases her and turns to the Doctor. "Doctor," he greets, holding out his hand; the Doctor shakes it gratefully. "Didn't expect you here."

"Didn't expect to be here," the Doctor replies, following Rose and Pete as they made their way to the dining table where Tony and Jackie are already sitting. The table is set, with the middle of the table full of roast chicken, crispy roast potatoes, and a variety of veg.

(It looks almost like a traditional Sunday roast; it strikes the Doctor that he has no idea what day of the week it actually is. It also strikes him that he'll have to live through all of the days now, even boring ones like Tuesday afternoons. The slow path).

"So, Jackie has explained some of your situation to me," Pete starts as he sits opposite the Doctor, dragging him out of his thoughts about Sundays and Tuesday afternoons. The Doctor isn't stupid; he knows why Pete has selected this seat. It's a negotiation tactic. Rose was right. He wastes no time. The thought makes him smile a little, but Pete is still talking. "So you're the other Doctor's - twin? Clone?"

"Neither," the Doctor says, not taking offence to the 'clone' comment as he might have done if was coming from anyone else. He accepts the plate of potatoes from Rose - who is sitting on his right - and loads some onto his plate. "Instantaneous biological metacrisis is the proper term for what happened. I'm Donna's twin, if you insist on the analogy. I'm half me, half Donna. Well, more like seventy percent me, thirty percent Donna. Maybe even a little less Donna. Can't really be sure of the exact numbers without doing a full biopsy scan."

Pete, for his credit, looks like he took in about seventy percent of what the Doctor was saying as he takes the plate of potatoes from him. "So you're half-human?"

The Doctor nods round a spectacularly crispy potato. "I got half of Donna's biology, mainly, and a few of her personality traits for good measure. I'm going to age like a human."

Pete pours some gravy over his roast chicken. "How did it happen, exactly? If you don't mind me asking."

The Doctor shakes his head in a 'no, I don't mind' gesture. "I lost my right hand just after I last regenerated in a swordfight on Christmas Day - "

"Is that the time you were in a coma, and the Christmas tree tried to kill us? Fat lot of use you were then, by the way."

"There's no need for that, Mum," Rose responds to Jackie's comment. The Doctor is slightly relieved that she's gone back to normal after their conversation by the window (however lovely it was, a mushy Jackie would be weird all the time). Jackie rolls her eyes as she cuts up Tony's chicken. Meanwhile her son, taking advantage of Jackie's misplaced attention, is slyly transferring his broccoli onto her plate.

"I'm just saying."

Pete rolls his eyes into his carrots; the Doctor snorts, Jackie stares, and he tries in vain to turn it into a cough. He doesn't think he's very successful, but continues with his story anyway.

"Then my friend Jack Harkness found my hand, and found a way to keep it stable; because it had my DNA in it, it could almost tell him when I was coming or if I was nearby? This sounds pretty gross, doesn't it?" Rose nods beside him, and he continues. "Anyway, when I met up with him again I confiscated it - if humans dissected it, they could have changed the future of the human race. And then it stayed on the TARDIS until I regenerated. During the regeneration I was aware that I only wanted to heal myself, not change, so I siphoned off the excess energy into my hand. Donna touched it, and the regeneration energy that was buzzing around in my hand exploded and ... well, it merged with some of Donna's DNA, and then I grew out of my hand."

Pete, halfway through the Doctor's explanation, had stopped eating and his jaw is now hanging open. "Bloody hell," he says eventually.

"Language!" Jackie cries, looking to Tony; Tony himself is snickering, although whether it's because of Pete's language or the fact that he's managed to sneak all of his broccoli into Jackie's plate without her noticing, the Doctor isn't sure.

"Sorry," Pete says as he stabs a carrot. "Well. That wasn't expected."

Rose laughs by the Doctor's side. "Not for any us."

"And the other Doctor," Pete questions. "Did he - "

"Abandon us here, and then swan off? Yes," the Doctor says a little bitterly. Rose taps his upper arm in a gesture that - a lifetime ago - was her subtle way of telling him he was being rude. A warmth spreads through him at the contact but he tries to focus on Pete. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"Are you here forever, then?"

The Doctor nods around a piece of chicken.

Pete just nods. "Well, I don't mean to be rude, but it's time to get down to business," he announces, and the Doctor feels Rose's foot tap under the table; he tries not to grin as her earlier prediction of Pete comes true. "If you're going to be here, and stay here, you're going to need documents." Pete withdraws a slim tablet from within his jacket.

"At the dinner table, really, Pete?" Jackie moans, gesturing with her fork to the tablet in her husband's hands.

"No time like the present, Jacks," Pete replies, unlocking the tablet and pressing a few buttons on the touchscreen. The tech looked a little advanced for this time in the 21st century, which fit his knowledge of this universe, which seemed to be a little ahead of the other. "The sooner it's all done, the better." Jackie rolls her eyes and takes Tony by the hand, saying she's going to give Tony a bath as he's currently wearing half his portion of gravy.

Rose taps him on the hand. "That's true," she says, and he remembers that she has been in his shoes before, three years ago. The Doctor nods his assent to Pete, who seems to switch cleanly into business mode.

"You'll need to take a human name," he explains. The Doctor was expecting this. "Of course, we'll all still call you Doctor, if that's what you'd prefer."

"It is my name, so yes," the Doctor jokes, as Rose elbows him in the ribs. "I don't know about a human name, though. I mean, I jokingly went around calling myself John Smith whenever I needed to - I actually spent three months believing I was a man called John Smith, but that's a story for another time. I think it would feel weird now to use that name."

"Like you would be trying to be that John Smith again?" Rose asks.

He grins at her. His wonderful Rose always gets it. "Exactly," he agrees. "I know! Put my last name as Noble, like Donna's."

Rose beams as she munches on an leftover asparagus spear. "She'd like that."

The Doctor laughs. "Yeah, she'd either be moved to tears or slap me into next Tuesday, one or the other."

"What about a first name?" Pete asks.

"What about James?" Rose supplies, and the Doctor cocks an eyebrow at her. "When we went to Scotland, you called yourself James McCrimmon, didn't you?"

The Doctor's eyes widen in recognition. "So I did, after Jamie," he says. Rose and Pete both look at him with similar looks of question; it's the first time he's seen a strong familial resemblance between the two, and it takes him a second to right his thoughts. "Travelled with a Scot called Jamie way, way back. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. I was in my, oh, second body? He was from the 18th century, y'know. Played the bagpipes." He looks down at his almost finished plate of food and felt melancholy as he remembered his old companion, and how they stopped travelling together. "He had his memory wiped too. Totally different circumstances, but still."

Rose puts her head on his shoulder in sympathy, kisses his shoulder where she can reach. The Doctor pats her hand in lieu of thanks.

"I think that settles it," he says. Pete looks up from his tablet. "In honour of the two people who will never really remember me. James Noble."

"Sounds good," Rose says in approval as Pete types the name into his tablet.

"Age?" he asks, looking at the Doctor, who scowls.

"Well, technically I'm nine hundred and four."

"Can't go around saying that," Jackie says, entering the room again with a freshly clean Tony. "I'm just putting Tony to bed. Pick a proper age, please, I'm not going around saying you're nine hundred odd. I'd get funny looks!"

Rose snickers as Jackie and Tony leave the room to a chorus of 'night night!'s to Tony, who waves back sleepily. "What do you think, Dad?" she asks Pete. "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

"Thirty-five," Pete says, typing in the year. "When's your birthday?"

"Yesterday," the Doctor answers immediately, and Pete continues typing. "What date is it, actually?"

"6th July, 2011," Pete answers distractedly from his tablet.

The Doctor turns to Rose. "So this universe is, what, three years ahead?"

She nods. "Yep. That's how we knew the stars were going out before you lot did. We had about eighteen months of it before we managed to successfully get across."

"Right," Pete says, drawing their attention back to him. "So, James Noble, born 5th July 1976. We need a bit more info for the birth certificate. Place of Birth?"

The Doctor grins wickedly. "Gallifrey. Small town in Ireland."

Rose laughs loudly. "Seriously?"

"You'd be surprised how many humans assumed it was Irish whenever I told them I was from Gallifrey."

Pete inputs all of this quickly. "Mother's name?"

The Doctor turns to Rose, a mischievous grin on his face again. "Do you think I should put Donna?"

Rose giggles again. "Ooh, she'd definitely slap you for that one!"

"Yeah, she would, wouldn't she?" the Doctor smiles nostalgically. "Go for it. Mother: Donna Noble. Put Father as ... Robert Noble. Robert was Jamie's middle name."

Pete finishes off typing. "I think that should be enough for now. That'll get you a birth certificate, driver's license, identity card. There is one more thing, though," he says, putting the tablet to sleep and clasping his hands in front of him on the table. "Doctor, I want you to come work for us at Torchwood. No - I'd be honoured."

The Doctor swallows; the lump in his throat is back. "Doing what, exactly?" he says, more to get Pete to speak further so the lump can dissipate before he embarrasses himself.

"Well," Pete starts. "You'd be an asset anywhere. More than anything I'd like you in the Research and Development department; seeing if there is anything we can use, and develop new tech for us with what we have. You'd also be useful in the field with Rose, if you'd prefer that."

The Doctor frowns for a little as he processes Pete's request. Two sides of him are at war; the geekier, science-y side of him thinks that developing new tech and figuring out the things that Torchwood discover sounds the most interesting, but he also knows that within a day or two of sitting at a desk, he'd be itching to get out and do something.

"Bit cheeky of me," he eventually says to Pete. "But could I maybe do a bit of both? I mean, I think research and development does sound good but I also know that I want to be out there too, you know?"

Pete nods in agreement, smiling. "That can be arranged. I'm just thrilled to have you on board. Welcome to the team, Doctor." He holds out his hand and the Doctor shakes it, smiling. Pete stands. "Right, if you'll excuse me, I've got to phone Ianto with these details and we'll hopefully have your documents for you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The Doctor says, impressed.

"Hopefully," Pete warns. "It's late now, so it might be the day after tomorrow. Being Director of Torchwood does have its benefits, Doctor. Come in with Rose to the Tower tomorrow morning, and we'll deal with things from there," he concludes, bidding them both goodnight as he leaves the room.

"Blimey," the Doctor exclaims, slumping back into the dining room chair. "I didn't realise quite how much work goes into being a human."

Rose laughs. "And that's not even the half of it," she says. "There is still quite a lot Pete needs to do."

The Doctor sighs. "I've very grateful he's gone to so much trouble for me."

"He did the same for me," Rose agrees, although the end of the sentence is muffled by a very loud yawn. "Sorry."

"Don't say sorry," the Doctor chides gently. "I'm actually a bit tired too, now you mention it."

"Welcome to the human race," Rose jokes, patting his face fondly as another wide yawn cracks across her face.

"You need your bed, young lady," Jackie says as she re-enters the room. Rose's head snaps up from it's place on the Doctor's shoulder; he immediately misses her warmth. "Go home. Go to bed. Get a proper night's sleep; I dare say you could sleep for days."

Rose nods, and the Doctor stands; helping Rose up out of her seat as they head towards the door. She sleepily bids goodnight to Jackie, not entirely unlike her brother did not that long ago.

"Thank you both for coming," Jackie says, as she hugs them both in turn as they stumble out the front door. "See you soon. I'll pop by and see how you're getting on tomorrow, maybe. Ta-ra!"

The Doctor turns to Rose, who is fishing in her handbag for her keys. "Are you too tired to drive?"

Another face-splitting yawn comes over Rose's face even as she shakes her head. "No, I've driven more tired than this."

The Doctor shakes his head now - she's dead on her feet. "Maybe it's you we have to talk about self-sacrificial tendencies," he comments, trying to not get too angry. It's not the time. "C'mon, I'm not quite as tired, I'll drive."

Rose seems a little more awake at that comment. "You can drive?"

The Doctor huffs as Rose hands over the keys. "Of course I can drive, Rose, it's only a car."

"Well -"

"Don't you dare say anything about my TARDIS," he says, although his tone is light and teasing. "It was more than TARDIS that landed us in the wrong place rather than me."

"Uh-huh. Sure it was," Rose replies as she slides into the passenger seat. "Y'know for super intelligent, sentient ship she really did get it wrong a lot. 1879 instead of 1979, 1860 Cardiff instead of 1869 Naples - "

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," the Doctor grumbles as he starts the car. As he heads home to their flat he is once again grateful for the retention of his Time Lord senses, so he is perfectly able to retrace his route home; Rose falls asleep, head against the window, before they've even left the Tyler's driveway.

He parks smoothly in the space Rose left earlier that night. He shakes Rose, who consents to being sleepily lead upstairs into the flat; it's almost like leading someone who is sleepwalking. The Doctor lets them into the flat and on autopilot Rose starts walking to her bedroom, but keeps her hand in his.

"Er, Rose?"

"Want to sleep with you," she mumbles, pulling on his hand; he's suddenly very grateful they didn't turn on the lights as his cheeks flare crimson as her double entendre. However it's clear that for tonight, at least, Rose just wants - _needs_ \- to actually sleep.

They get ready for bed in silence; Rose is practically asleep as she changes into her pyjamas that she keeps under her pillow. The Doctor looks at the wall as he digs around in the shopping bags for at least a t-shirt to wear tonight with his boxers.

By the time he's found one and slipped his blue shirt and trousers off and put the t-shirt on, Rose is already in bed; he slips under the covers as quietly and smoothly as he can as to not disturb her, but she turns towards him as soon as he settles down. She slides towards him and rests her head on his chest. He puts his arms around her, securing her to his body.

"Goodnight, Rose," he says into her hair.

"Goodnight, Doctor," she mumbles back; he's a bit startled, as he thought she was too asleep to respond. "Love you."

He squeezes her impossibly closer, his heart full to bursting. Is this what being human is? Being so overcome with emotion it was hard to actually _think_ about anything else? Never mind the anything else - it's going to take him a lifetime to get used to _feeling_ so damn much all the time.

"Love you too, Rose," he murmurs to her. Rose nuzzles his chest in her sleep. His heart explodes with happiness.

He drifts off to sleep with wonderful dreams of amazing adventures to come.

**Author's Note:**

> coming soon: a twelve-chaptered fic detailing tentoo's first year in pete's world. ❤️


End file.
